The Trick

The love of my life

cannot understand

he’s not my friend

He might find it

offensive. Perhaps

even insane!

We like long walks

and fortnightly installments

conversations

-Those go

about the shallow

and the deep-

We never kiss

or share beds

-kissing his neck

when saying goodbye

is just a futile clue-

and mastered

the fine art

of never trembling

Sometimes

by accident

our hands encounter

Sometimes our sight

-in a very weird way-

also does

through these

every kind of topic

conversations

I’m sorry sometimes

I’m not able

to pay him

any attention

while he talks

I just gather pinches

of his gestures

drops of his voice

And I recall him

by the light

straight midnight

laying concerned

behind my shoulder

Asking me questions

one might find annoying

but I found

terribly sweet:

“What is it that

you feel about me

this is not just sex

is it?"

-I crumbled inside

like an ancient ruin-

Sharp and clever

as I pretend to be

replied almost manly:

“I don’t like that kind

of just about sex relationships.”

-Worst answer of my entire life-

The fool

unsheltered asked

If I had ever love him

or ever will

it was just a glance

I smile to him so often

-He

makes me

happy-

Just sitting there

giving me complex lectures

about things

I’ll never understand

about politics or economics

I’ll look into his eyes

with my all-things-burning

eyes

and smile to him so often

as if he was this little child

that got into the nose trick

parents do with their thumbs

I will smile to him

so often!

The love of my life

cannot understand

he’s not my friend.